


Somethin' Fierce

by careforacuppatea



Category: Moominvalley (Cartoon 2019), Mumintroll | Moomins Series - Tove Jansson, 新ムーミン | Shin Moomin (Anime 1972), 楽しいムーミン一家 | Moomin (Anime 1990)
Genre: Father/Son Incest, Fluff, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Parent/Child Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-06
Updated: 2019-06-06
Packaged: 2020-04-11 10:56:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19108243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/careforacuppatea/pseuds/careforacuppatea
Summary: Post sex relaxing and cuddling between the Joxter and Snufkin-- while Joxter tries to nap, Snufkin is wide awake, and ends up curiously playing with Joxter's hair, and even teasing and prodding at the tired old soul.There's only so much an old Mumrik can take.





	Somethin' Fierce

**Author's Note:**

> Snufkin is at youngest 16, to at most 18/19 years old.   
> This was a request off of my Tumblr.

“I thought Mumrik were incredibly lazy,” a boyish voice whispered into the dark, it was slow, tired, and yet lively, curious hands found their way into dark, wild, thick hair of the Joxter, who laid besides the Snufkin. The two were still in the nude, considering the little cave hideout would get overbearingly hot and humid for them during their  _moments_ , to the point even think of wearing clothes, or even drape a piece of cloth over themselves-- no, they simply laid on a bed of soft grass and hay, their clothes also becoming part of the nest.

While it wasn’t common for Mumrik to be so close and physically demanding after sex, considering this wasn’t the first time for them, Joxter had finally decided to humor Snufkin, and stay afterwards; the older man laid on his side, facing Snufkin who was also on his side, propped up by an elbow, while the other was busying itself with gently, almost shyly, pulling at and curling the Joxter’s thick, wild hair amongst his slender fingers. 

Joxter didn’t seem to notice, or simply didn’t pay mind to the gentle tugging and teasing of his hair, as his eyes stayed closed. “We are incredibly lazy,” Joxter suddenly replied, breaking the awful stillness of the dark, his voice a bit gruffer, a bit deeper, mainly due to being spent and tired. This caused Snufkin’s hand to startle and pull back, and as he did, one of Joxter’s eyes opened, an electric blue orb staring directly up at Snufkin. 

“But we can also be pretty energetic and full of something  _fierce_ , when we want to be,” and with that, Joxter gently closed his eye and went back to being silent. Joxter’s voice seemed to give off a tone of playfulness at the end of his sentence, but while Snufkin could make out Joxter’s brilliant blue eyes even the darkest of nights, he couldn’t tell if the man was harboring a ghost of a smirk. 

Snufkin laid there, quiet, not sure how to respond-- possibly due to how tired and content he felt --and mainly because, him and Joxter never quite held long conversations to begin with, even after intimate moments like this. So, he went back to mussing and tugging Joxter’s dark hair. Curious fingers combed their way, gentle when it came to untangle a knot, curling strands amongst his digits, giving a tug each time, he unraveled the pieces from his fingers. 

After some time of doing this, Snufkin grew a little bit bolder-- pushing his fingers through the Mumrik’s wild hair, he gently brushed over the scalp. Taking a second to really think about this, he then massaged with the pads of his fingers, before dragging back with his nails. At first, nothing happened, no reaction-- which to Snufkin, was rather disappointing-- but then, a strange, yet familiar sound began emerging from the feral man under his fingers. It some time for Snufkin’s brain to figure out what exactly the sound was, but when it hit him, he couldn’t help as a childish smile grew across his face. 

The Joxter was  _purring_ , and it seemed to grow in volume as Snufkin continued his teasing and scratching of the man’s hair. It seemed to come from someplace deep inside Joxter’s chest, and while Snufkin continued his playing, he swore he could even feel the deep rumbles coming from the older man-- it gave him goosebumps. 

For some time, not sure how long, Snufkin was content with this, and Joxter seemed content and tolerant of it too-- but as Snufkin laid there, staring into the dark blindly, a rather devious idea wormed its way into his head. It made Snufkin’s soft smile turn into a mischievous grin, and fingers curl, almost a bit too tight, because the calm purring seemed to stutter, before continuing its rhythm. 

This only piqued Snufkin’s interest and encouraged him to go through with his idea. The boy had learned Joxter’s limits and boundaries as they had reconnected and spent time together, he’s learned it the hard way a many of times-- and yet, just like his own father, he happily pushed boundaries and limits, even if there were consequences. 

And so, Snufkin, readjusting himself a bit as his elbow was getting sore, went back to tugging and teasing Joxter’s hair-- but this time, every tug seemed to get much rougher, more demanding. The curling of strands amongst his fingers, only lead to pulling, before unraveling-- and when his fingers found the scalp, it was more nails than soft pads and massages. 

As Snufkin continued getting rougher, a bit too playful, Joxter’s purring slowly died down, and what sound began to produce from the older man’s chest was something akin to a warning growl, alongside grunting and quick, quiet intakes of air. While Snufkin knew all too well what the warning growl meant, he couldn’t stop himself from playing with the Joxter’s black hair-- running his fingers through it and roughing tugging and teasing as he ran them back. For some reason, Snufkin didn’t feel fear or anxiety when the growls only grew louder, more feral-- instead, it sent a shock of electricity throughout his entire body, from his fingertips and toes, to his lower stomach, and straight to his groin. 

Snufkin couldn’t stop his own breathing as it began to get much more noticeable, harsher, needy-- and when his lithe fingers found their way to the base of Joxter’s head, and wrapped and coiled thick hair in his hand, he gave an unnecessarily rough, almost painful pull, before sinking his claws to the roots. 

That’s when suddenly, Snufkin felt a strong hand wrapped around his free hand which had buried itself at the base of Joxter’s skull-- and with the sound of a primal snarl, Snufkin found himself forced onto his back. With a grunt, something heavy sat itself right below his naval, not releasing its iron grip of Snufkin’s wrist, before situating itself, removing its weight on Snufkin, and now was hovering above the younger man. When Snufkin looked up, his brown eyes met extremely electric, and icy blue eyes, staring straight back down at him. 

Snufkin should have begun panicking, should have begun apologizing, submitting as he broke eye contact-- but he didn’t, he simply just stared straight into those moon-shone eyes, still breathing a bit hard, breathless from his actions, and from Joxter’s actions. 

Joxter seemed to be breathing hard as well, for Snufkin could not only hear it in the darkness, but he could feel puffs of hot air hit his face-- Joxter was close, when had he gotten so close? 

It felt like an eternity, the two staring back at each other-- when Joxter’s grip on Snufkin’s wrist tightened so that it indeed hurt, and Snufkin couldn’t stop himself from jolting and opening his mouth to release a whine and cry of pain. That’s when dry, but hungry lips crashed into Snufkin’s, and the young man swore his bottom lip was split from the clashing of teeth, and the dull pain from where teeth met soft lips. As Snufkin was still reeling from the pain and the sudden kiss, Joxter’s thick, rough tongue slithered out, giving a swipe at Snufkin’s bottom lip, and when the taste of copper hit Joxter’s palate, an inhuman growl built up in his chest, only to be muffled as he roughly pushed his tongue into Snufkin’s open mouth. This is what got Snufkin reeling back to the present, out of his startled nerves as he brought up his other hand and placed it flat against, what he presumed, was Joxter’s chest. Snufkin pushed back, letting out noises of soft protest as the Mumrik laid claim to the boy’s mouth and tongue, and when Snufkin attempted to turn his face away to break it, Joxter brought his other hand to clasp the boy’s face and force him to stay towards him.

It was almost too much, too much contact, too much tongue and spit, too much pain from both his wrist and his cheeks as Joxter showed no sign of giving his iron grip. Snufkin could barely breathe, and at this point it was hopeless to even attempt to push back, and so, the best he could do was bring his free hand up , moving to reach behind Joxter’s neck—and then, dug and clawed at where his fingers could reach. While Snufkin’s nails weren’t as lethal or sharp looking as Joxter’s, they still had their sting; Joxter wasn’t immune to this, and with a snarl, finally broke the intense kiss. Snufkin drank in as much air as he could, swallowing hard—and he could feel the dribbles of saliva on his chin, dripping down onto his collarbones. Any strands of thick saliva between the two were broken once Joxter licked at his own lips, staring almost ice-cold daggers at Snufkin, an almost constant rumble of growling coming from the older man’s chest. As Snufkin’s breathing tried calming, Joxter decided to release the boy’s face, and even let up on his grip of his wrist—but not letting go completely. The pain from such touch began to dull, and Snufkin couldn’t help but wonder if he’d have bruises on his wrist and chin or cheeks when he awoke to daylight.

Snufkin only had a moment of peace it seemed, as Joxter then used his free hand to now comb into the boy’s hair, like his in some ways, but much straighter, not as wild, and softer, but just as thick. Joxter wasted no time playing, and simply grasped the young man’s hair roughly, painfully, leading to Snufkin having to move his head this way and that way, not holding back the whimpers and moans of pain and _need_ mixing. Finally, Joxter tugged Snufkin to turn his head away and show his pale neck, and when he let out a sound akin to a predator about to feast, another shock went through Snufkin’s body, got him shivering, and his groin hot and sensitive.

“Looks like I’m full of something _fierce_ , boy,” the Joxter growled out, hungrily, eyes no longer ice cold and furious, but full of something devilish.


End file.
